Missing You
by deGorgeous
Summary: Based on recent BTS photos from 4x19. Emma and Regina embark on a mission that takes them outside Storybrooke, and Emma confronts her feelings for a certain pirate.


Emma's never been good with goodbyes. Despite an extensive history of leaving and being left, the pain is still raw every time. Tears still threaten to spill from her eyes, her voice still trembles and cracks with each parting word.

And it's silly, really. They'll only be away for a few days at most, and she's certainly gone on far more dangerous missions that this one: going across the town line to follow up on a clue she, Regina and Henry had uncovered about the identity of the storybook author. Yet, as she looks over at her family a few feet away, then turns her attention back to Killian's equally pained expression, Emma can't shake the feeling of unease and the paranoia eats away at her.

He takes her left hand in his right (and scoops her other palm with his hook) and stares at their interlocked fingers. She tries to memorize the feel of it — his skin on hers, the coolness of his rings, the firmness of his hold — and suspects he's doing the same. As he takes a reluctant step back, he fidgets with one of them (the red one with the swan embossed on it) and removes it.

Without any words exchanged, Killian presses the piece of jewelry into her hand, tucking it in securely. Emma makes a tight fist before pocketing it, sniffling and trying desperately not to cry.

She clears her throat before she finally speaks. "Keep Henry safe."

"With my life," he says. She stills at that, body going rigid in his grasp, not even wanting to entertain that possibility. Their foreheads are almost touching they're standing so close, and Killian only needs to lean in fractionally to kiss her (and quick yet tender thing). "I'll see you when you get back."

.

Regina is mostly quiet during their drive away from Storybrooke. She had initially made of fuss about potentially being unable to return, which she then promptly talked herself out of. Emma's presence behind the wheel goes mostly ignored, and she's thankful. They've never been the small talk type, and if she has to listen to Regina go over their plan one more time she's not sure she wouldn't be tempted to swerve into the nearest tree.

She's managed to silence the worried thoughts that ran rampant in her mind the moment they drove off (she remembers with absolute clarity the image of her family — Hook and Henry at the forefront — waving at their retreating forms through her rearview mirror) and has settled for fiddling with the newest charm on her necklace.

His ring rests against the key chain of her namesake, the former symbol of her vow to never trust another soul with her heart now joined by a token of affection. It means something different to her now. Memories of Neal and heartbreak and betrayal replaced with acceptance and the knowledge that she was no longer alone; that she no longer needed to be so afraid.

The jingling sound of metal on metal seems to pique Regina's interest. She turns her head sharply at the sound, shoulders arched back and chin elevated. Emma doesn't look at her, however, just stiffens at the attention while letting go of the necklace.

"He gave you a ring," Regina comments pointedly. "Subtle."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Relax, Miss Swan. Being in love is nothing to be ashamed of." Only the reformed Evil Queen could make the statement sound like an insult, but Emma's too flustered to care.

"I don't— nobody said anything about love."

"Emma." She straightens, knowing that whenever Regina used her first name she meant business. "I may not be the best at giving advice, but… if there's one thing I know, it's that you'll always regret not saying it." Regina's posture slackens at the admission, voice softer and far away. "And one day, it'll be too late and you'll wish that you had." There's bitterness in her tone, but it's not directed at her. The universe, maybe. Or perhaps the man they're hunting down.

"We're gonna find him," Emma mutters after a beat. She doesn't mean the author.

.

They stay the night at her old apartment in the city. There's a thin layer of dust that covers nearly every surface and most of her plants have since perished, but the space is otherwise exactly how she left months prior.

It feels like stepping into a dream, an odd mixture of nostalgia and unfamiliarity. Henry's XBOX controller is still on the couch. The bar stools are still askew from his last breakfast here (right before Killian had come strolling in to deliver them back home). Emma recalls choosing and purchasing every piece of furniture she sees, deciding on the color scheme and decor; but now, standing in the middle of her old living room, it's foreign to her.

This place is no longer where she belongs.

Regina, on the other hand, is entranced. She gravitates to the scattered possessions of a 12-year-old boy, gingerly touching a hoodie that's been tossed by the entertainment system. She picks it up, folding it unconsciously as she makes her way around, getting acclimated.

After a couple of hours of settling in and light unpacking, they take to their separate rooms (Regina requests to stay in Henry's, insisting that the smaller bed would be no trouble at all). Emma lies in bed awake in sheets that scratch along her bare legs and pillows that are too fluffy.

She thinks of strong arms wrapped around her to keep her warm; thick blankets draped over her lap and a reassuring hand rubbing up and down her back while she recovered from the frigid ice cave ordeal. If he had joined her on this trip instead, he'd offer to stay on the couch with a playful smirk and mischief in his eyes. She'd tell him he was being ridiculous and invite him to rest beside her, and she has no doubt she'd fall asleep in an instant.

It hits her suddenly, like a punch in the gut. She misses him. _Really_ misses him. Misses him in a way she hasn't since she was a teenager running from motel room to motel room to sleep in. They hadn't spent much time apart in the past few weeks, and his company was a constant even before then. She figures she just has to get used to not having him around all the time.

But it's more than that, Emma knows. She feels it in her bones, like she can't breathe right. Like her muscles would automatically loosen if he was there. Like everything would just be a little bit easier — like she'd be just a little be stronger — if he was with her.

She _wants _him.

Without warning, her room erupts in light. Her dresser mirror flashes before fading to a white glow. She's seen this once before, back at her parent's loft during a training session with her magic. At the time she was trying to reach out to Ariel across realms. Now, a more modern image appears in the reflection. Floral wallpaper and a bed adorned with a patched quilt and cream-colored linen.

A man is laying on top of the covers, his leg bent at the knee and his arms folded beneath his scalp. Killian huffs as he changes positions, lounging on his side and inadvertently facing her more directly. His room at Granny's is practically spotless with the exception of his discarded clothing on a desk chair.

It's the first time she's seen him in this state of undress, chest bare and baggy pants that just barely manage to rise above his hip. Emma is amazed by her magic's resilience, but is unsurprised by it's manifestation. Embarrassment soon gives way to comfort and longing. It's apparent Killian is in a similar state of insomnia, but she's already feeling better. Her eyelids begin to sag and her limbs get heavy (the calming effect he has on her is overwhelming, but Emma prefers it to the nagging loneliness from just minutes ago).

She angles the mirror towards her, slipping back into bed as she drifts off. He tosses and turns on his mattress, digits combing through his messy black hair, and projects into the ceiling.

"I love you, Swan."

It's a faint whisper, a plea in the dark, but in the stillness of her bedroom it's as loud as any heroic proclamation.

She doesn't sleep that night.

.

Emma and Regina head out just after dawn. Her dark circles and sluggish pace betray her immeasurable fatigue, but Regina only inquires as it whether it'll slow them down. Emma downs two cups of coffee in reassurance.

The moment they exit the apartment building, he's there, waiting with baited breath which he immediately lets out when he sees them. "Robin," Regina says in utter disbelief, and it's her turn to be the giver (and recipient) of those_ yearning looks and does eyes._

Their reunion is tentative, but no less charged with unspoken affirmations and pining. She asks after Marian and Roland, and though Emma knows the topic is a sensitive one, she is impressed by Regina's composure. Robin answers amicably but never looks away from her for longer than a few seconds. Emma excuses herself shortly thereafter, and neither of them seem to mind.

She glances back at them as she crosses the street, catching the beginnings of a passionate embrace (Emma even thinks she sees Regina sob before they start making out right there on the sidewalk) and she's happy for them, for her. It's a complicated situation, she's aware, but right now they are enjoying a quiet, stolen moment, and Emma is that much closer to making good on her promise.

Later that afternoon, they find what they've been looking for. The latest puzzle piece in their never ending mission points to Storybrooke. They waste no time in starting their return trip.

.

She spots the welcome sign and speeds past it with a childlike impatience, and she's overcome with emotion at the thought of their homecoming. The sensation of having an actual home hasn't lost it's novelty. Emma is excited to see Henry again, to let him know that his video games are in working condition and that she brought back some of his favorite comics. She can't wait to see her parents and baby brother. She's eager to talk to Killian; to say out loud the words that she's felt in her heart for so long but hadn't the courage to accept.

The bug is parked hastily in front of Granny's, the bright yellow car unmistakeable in it's arrival. Henry and Hook emerge from the establishment entrance, her kid slamming into her as soon as she gets out of the vehicle, moving on to greet his other mother with equal enthusiasm.

Killian keeps his distance, allowing the scene with play out without his interference. He smiles at her as Regina and Henry head inside, stepping closer to Emma as she approaches him. She marches towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him with such force he lets out a low grunt.

He chuckles at her reception and kisses along her jaw in appreciation. She leans back enough to make eye contact and cups his cheek, her thumb caressing his stubble. Killian cants his head at her then, reading her as he always does. She knows it then, acknowledges the certainty of what she feels for his man, and then it comes out on a deep exhale.

She brought back the happy endings, even the most impossible one. Now, it was time to have hers.

"_I love you, too._"

.

.


End file.
